A New Start
by AngelGirl2514
Summary: Set after Buffy has died for the 2nd time. Angel and others try to cope while an unexpected twist creates havoc....Read this; Buffy's and others' needs, wants, and innermost desires...not finished, so bear with me, R for some sexual content and languguage
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters **sigh** I wish I did, but only Joss is that brilliant.  
  
Rating: R for some sexual content and some language. (This comes later in the story for those of you who actually read that. I'm planning a major twist and I want you all to please stick with me till the story's finished!  
  
Feedback: PLEASE!!!! I LOVE IT!!! I want whatever you have to say! Tell me how I can improve things, or if it's good or bad or whatever!  
  
Note: This is set after Buffy has died saving Dawn, and right when Angel and crew return from Plrtz Glrb. Darla is not in it, neither is Riley, Drusilla, or any of the other add-ons that just kind of confused the plot.  
  
Summary: Angel and everyone have to cope with Buffy's death, when some visitors come to set some things straight, and then things go from bad to well.where do you go from there? **Wants you to read it to find out**  
  
I hope you like it, but bear with me because it is my first fanfic! I've really enjoyed reading these from other people and I would love it if I could get you guys (n' gals!) to read mine and gimme some feedback!!! PPPPLLLLEEEEEEAAAASSSEEEE!!!!!!! 


	2. The First

Los Angeles.  
  
"I'm thinking that maybe we should get going." Gunn said about him and the Host to the others. "Buffy don't got much to do with us, and I think I detect a little brooding coming on from vamp dude over there." He said, tilting his head in Angel's direction.  
  
"Uh-huh. Good idea." Cordelia said, completely shocked by the information Willow was just giving them.  
  
No, no, no. This can't be. Angel kept telling himself. He didn't think he'd ever been in this much pain. Including when Buffy had sent him to Hell for trying to send the world to it. Buffy, he thought again, the pain becoming almost unbearable, I wish I could've been there for you. And he did. With every molecule of his being, to the depths of his soul, and the bottom of his heart, he wished he could have been there. Done something to help her. He didn't even hear most of what Willow was saying. All he heard was the last part.  
  
  
  
"Just last night." Willow concluded.  
  
Cordelia snapped out of shock-mode and chimed in, "But, Buffy can't die," pausing, thinking about what she had just said, she amended herself. "Well, technically she can, but she's like, super-strong slay-gal. Like, unbeatable slay-gal. How did she end up six feet under?" So to speak.  
  
Willow had the answer to her question. "She did it to save Dawn."  
  
Dawn, Angel thought, way far gone by now, Buffy sacrificed herself for Dawn. Why does it seem like she did so in vain?  
  
Willow continued to tell of Buffy's death. "Dawn was the key to alternate dimensions, meaning that her blood could open the gates between earth and every single hell there is. Meaning also, that only Dawn's blood could close those gates. Buffy figured that since Dawn, physically, was made from her blood, she would be able to close the gates, allowing Dawn to live."  
  
Now it was Wesley's turn to speak. "You mean, Buffy died so that Dawn might live?"  
  
"Yes," Willow agreed, "but there's a catch. You see the monks, the ones who brought Dawn to Buffy, were thought to be dead. Buffy had seen the last one die. But there were two left. Two that hid from Glory in hopes to stop her, but were both too cowardly." Willow paused. "Yet they still had magick. Sorcery, whatever you want to call it, but they took Dawn away, and are working at erasing her from our memories." She turned in Angel's direction "You might seem to forget a lot of things from when Dawn was around. Am I right?"  
  
Finally, Angel came around. "Yeah, I...kind of...it's hazy...I think I should...I'm just gonna go..." he made no attempt to hide the emotion in his voice as he faltered, and walked upstairs.  
  
No one stopped him. Of all people, Angel was probably the one who was hurt the most by all of this. Willow could see in his eyes that he still loved Buffy, and his concern, and the way he dealt, or didn't deal with her death, proved it. Willow decided to leave them alone. "I should really get going. It's late, and Giles is on full alert now...very overprotective about us all, now that..." she shook out of it, "Well, I should go. If you have any questions-"  
  
Wesley cut her off. "We'll give you a ring." He managed a fake, 'everything's not fine, but I'm trying to give an optimistic perspective,' smile. As he watched the slayer's redheaded best friend walk out the door.  
  
"I think we should probably leave Angel alone for a while. If he does decide to deal, trust me, he'll do so on his own time." Cordelia said and walked out, very much saddened.  
  
"Yes, you're most likely right." Wesley replied and shut off the lights as he left.  
  
  
  
*******************  
  
  
  
Angel lie in his bed. He felt completely empty and alone. Buffy was a part of him, a huge part of his heart that could only ever be filled by her, and in dying, she took that part with her, never to return it. Oh Buffy, why did you have to always put your heart first? It was one of the things he loved about Buffy, one of the oh-so-many things he loved about her, but it was also a flaw for a slayer. Love, he thought, she did it out of love. And then came the memories. Angel was awash in a sea of them. How it felt to be in Buffy's arms, to be wrapped in her warm, gentle embrace. He remembered how it felt to kiss her, her lips on his, tenderly, and yet also so passionately. He remembered the night they made love, how wonderful it had been. Her fingers traced the tattoo on his back, his lips caressing her face, softly tracing her cheekbones with the back of his hand. Loving her, losing himself in her, in her gentle touch, in her soul. He wished the night would go on forever. Another memory, of the first time he saw her. How beautiful she was. How happy she had seemed, gossiping with her friends. Before she became the slayer, her life was that of any normal 15- year-old. He saw flashes of when she dusted her first vampire, and he felt her emotion when her parents went through the divorce. But it doesn't matter now, he thought. She's gone, and she's never going to come back. As the realization finally hit him, he wept. He wept long and heartfelt tears of sadness over losing his beloved Buffy. And yet, a part of him still believed that she would just come back, and give him a call. Tell him everything was right again, and that she was fine. He knew it would never happen, but he could hope.  
  
  
  
********************  
  
  
  
Sunnydale.  
  
"Brother Jacques?" said a voice from the shadows questioning who was there.  
  
"Yes, Brother Zachary, it is me." announced another voice from the center of the room.  
  
They were in an old abandoned factory that had been used long ago by some vampires, but of which were now long gone. The place was empty. Quiet, deserted, and filled with the presence of death. Brother Zachary didn't like it one bit. But Brother Jacques was his superior, and though there were only the two of them left of the Monks of Versilla, Brother Zachary believed in the code of the Monks, which meant he had to do what his superiors asked of him. "Brother Jacques, do you think, that since we took away the Key and destroyed it and the Slayer's friends' memories of it, that maybe they deserve compensation for it?" he asked in a manor that made Brother Jacques become very curious.  
  
"Like what, exactly, do you mean, Brother Zachary?" Brother Jacques asked dangerously.  
  
Brother Zachary cringed. He didn't like it when Brother Jacques used that questioning, but dangerous tone he used when he didn't want to play games. "Well, brother, I was thinking maybe we could bring back that which they have cherished so dearly, yet lost?"  
  
Brother Jacques thought for a moment about this, but then cam to a conclusion. "My brother, you know that we cannot resurrect that which has been lost. Only They, the Powers That Be, can meddle with things as great as that."  
  
"You are right, my brother. I do not know what I had been thinking. I know that we are not powerful enough to perform that kind of task," Brother Zachary continued, "but I just thought we owed a debt to them, being as we were the ones who brought this tragedy upon them." He concluded sadly.  
  
"We did not know what the outcome of the battle was going to be!" Brother Jacques was enraged; "we merely followed the instructions given to us by Them! So therefore, we will leave it to Them to fix things!" He yelled.  
  
"You are right, my brother. As always, you are right." Brother Zachary said, but his words had a sort of finality to them, as if They weren't going to fix things, and he felt utterly hopeless. There was nothing that Brother Zachary could do to help.  
  
  
  
***********************************  
  
  
  
Willow was wandering through the graveyard, not knowing why. There's something I'm supposed to find out, she thought, but she didn't know what it was. As she passed the headstones, she walked by several that she would rather not have seen. The first one she saw was of Jesse, Willow's and Xander's friend from high school who died at the hands of the Master and Darla, only to come back again as a vampire. Willow knew his body was not in his grave, yet she liked to believe that his soul, at least, had a final resting place somewhere nice. Jesse deserved it, he really did. When he was alive, he had been one of the nicest people Willow knew. The next grave she passed was Jenny Calendar's. Miss Calendar had been the Scooby Gang's teacher and friend, and was a technopagan. She died at the hands of Angel, who at the time was Angelus, while she was trying to give him back his soul. However, Angelus didn't sire her. He just snapped her neck in two like it was a dry twig. Willow quickly moved on. She didn't want to think about that right now. Thinking of Angel made her think of Buffy, and she didn't want to think of Buffy. She really didn't think she had any tears left in her. Another of the graves she saw was Harmony's, but Willow knew that Harmony's grave was empty. She was now a member of the living dead. Or would 'walking dead' be more appropriate? Willow wondered. Oh well, all that mattered was, well, actually nothing about Harmony really mattered to Willow. She hated Harmony with a passion, but couldn't help feeling sorry for the girl, seeing as she was sired by Spike. The last grave Willow passed was Mrs. Summers' grave. She was actually glad that Mrs. Summers wasn't alive to see her daughter die. It would have been extremely hard for her. Most likely it would be harder for her than it was for Buffy when her mother died. Willow cringed at what she knew she would see next, and she wanted to turn around and go back. She memorized the exact spot of her best friend's grave, and tried not to pass it when she went patrolling with the others. It was just too painful for her. But somehow, she couldn't turn. She could only move forward, and she couldn't stop either. It was as if something was pulling her. As if she had to see this, perhaps to let go? Willow wasn't sure, but when she reached the spot where Buffy's grave was supposed to be, she saw nothing. Well, not nothing, but there wasn't a headstone, and the ground looked unearthed, as if it had never felt the touch of a shovel. Willow looked around, confused, and then heard a familiar voice, and nearly burst into tears of joy and bewilderment.  
  
"Hey Will. What are you doing here? I thought I told you not to go patrolling alone?"  
  
"B...Bu...Buffy? But you're supposed to be..."  
  
"Dead, I know, but lying underground for days with no one to talk to just gets kind of boring." She said, matter-of-factly.  
  
Willow couldn't get her mouth to work. She could only stand there, eyes wide in shock. Or maybe it was sheer disbelief, but either way, she couldn't move.  
  
"Willow, I just want you to know something. You're my best friend in the entire world, and I also want you to know that I have more determination than anyone you'll ever know, and I..."  
  
Willow finally got her lips to move and finished Buffy's sentence for her. "...Will do all that you can to get back to us, right?"  
  
"Yeah." Buffy managed a forced smile. Kind of like she knew there was no returning to her friends. Like she knew she wasn't going to ever live again. A tear trickled down her cheek as she said, "Goodbye Willow." And walked off into the shadows.  
  
"Goodbye Buffy." Willow said sadly, tears running freely down her cheeks.  
  
"Willow?" A voice called from somewhere far off.  
  
"WILLOW!" The voice called again.  
  
"What is it?" Willow asked angrily, and then noticed that she was back in her and Tara's dorm room, in her own bed, with tears still running down her face. "Oh, sorry Tara. I didn't mean to snap at you, I just, I guess I didn't realize...oh, I don't know."  
  
"Did you have another dream about Buffy?" Tara asked gently.  
  
"Yeah," Willow replied, "But Tara, it felt so real! She was there. I could feel her presence. She was right there talking to me, and then, just like that, she was gone." She burst out crying for about the billionth time since Buffy's death.  
  
"Shhh. It's okay Willow." Tara tried to comfort her, but she knew it wasn't any help. Buffy had been Willow's best friend, and she left a little gap in Willow's heart that no one would be able to fill, not even Tara. She knew this because, even with the short time she'd had to get to know her, Buffy had left the smallest gap in even Tara's heart. She held a special place in the Scoobie gang, and no one would ever be able to bring the spark that she added to the group back.  
  
"Tara, I'm sorry," Willow said in between sobs, "But I really need to be alone right now."  
  
"I understand." Tara said. And she did. She understood exactly. She just wished there was something she could do about it to make Willow feel better. She left the room, leaving Willow there by herself in tears.  
  
*********************** 


	3. Realizations

CHAPTER 2----New Beginnings  
  
Los Angeles  
  
Angel couldn't sleep. It was 12 PM and yet he just couldn't seem to find any rest. This doesn't seem right, he thought. I shouldn't be here. I should be with her.wherever she is. Quickly he got out of bed and showered and dressed, then he took the back way out of the hotel into the sewer, and decided to go for a walk. He didn't know where he was heading until he cam to see the sign. 'Caritas,' was a good place to be right now. If anything maybe the Host could help him. He walked into the dimly lit karaoke bar, and sat down. "Bloody Mary, fresh." He said to the bartender when he asked if Angel would like a drink. As the Host walked toward Angel and pulled up a seat across from him, he knew without song that something was wrong with this vamp, and he knew exactly the word it was too: Buffy.  
  
"Angel, babe, what's the prob. here?" he asked.  
  
"I want information and I want it now. And I think you know what I'm talking about." Said Angel with ice in his eyes.  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa there hun. Chill. This whole Buffy thing. I can tell it has you all messed up." the Host said, backing up a little ways from Angel. He didn't want to be around if he got angry. That could have disastrous consequences. "But the fact is, you need to let things take their course." The Host was usually pretty good at getting past the rules of not telling him everything, but at the same time giving him enough information to hold him over until.but Angel was different.  
  
"And what if letting things take their course isn't what I had planned to do?" He asked, almost knowing exactly what the Host was going to say in return.  
  
"Listen, They don't care what you plan to do. They care what They plan to do, and right now, it's best that you stick to Their plan. At least until you can be sure what They want and what you want. 'Cause hun I know you don't know what you want right now."  
  
"Oh really? I've been around for over 200 years, and you think I don't know what I want? I want the woman I love more than anything else in my entire existence back! That is what I want! Now tell me how to get her or I might just decide to make 'Caritas' a violence-only area." Angel stood up suddenly, menacingly, and glared at the Host.  
  
"Look, all I can tell you is that you have to wait. Just go home, and try to get some sleep. This will work out. I promise it will, but sometimes you just have to learn to let things be!" The Host truly did look sorry for all the not-so-great information he had to give. He was actually a little relieved when Angel finally stormed out. The guy couldn't be blamed though. The only woman he had ever loved just died. It would only be natural for him to be in mourning. But that was just it. Angel wasn't in mourning. It was like he blamed himself for what happened to her, even though it wasn't his fault, or even his responsibility for that matter. Oh well, thought the Host, everything will get sorted out. ---looking to the sky---It better, he thought again, it really had better.  
  
Out on the streets of LA at night is not the greatest of all places to be. Dark, dreary, lonely. Just the way Angel like things. Keeping to the shadows so not to be seen, hidden in a cover of darkness and black, he couldn't seem to stop thinking about her. She had always made him feel more than he was. Like an actual human being, but now that she was gone, Angel felt like exactly what he knew he had always been. A lonely, solitary, angry monster. Not that he didn't mind, because, if truth be told, he wasn't one for company. But still, he enjoyed being on this earth when Buffy had been around. Even knowing that she was here, somewhere, in the same dimension as he, was comfort. But now, with her gone, he didn't belong. He had no one to go to, nowhere to be, and most of all, nothing he wanted to see or hear or do. He just walked on, further and further, until he wondered where he was even going. But then he went back to realizing it didn't matter. Buffy is gone, he thought. It doesn't matter what happens to me. So he just walked on, wishing he could walk off the face of the earth, if only just to be with her.  
  
*****  
  
Sunnydale  
  
"Brother Zachary?" asked Brother Jacques as he walked into the motel room they had been renting for the past few weeks.  
  
"Yes, Brother Jacques?" answered Brother Zachary.  
  
"You were right. About the resurrection. I was afraid. I still am, but we owe it to them. All of the people that she helped, and all that she could help, and also to the Souled One. They need her. What can we make of our lives but to just work simple old magicks? She could do much greater things than we."  
  
"I agree, Brother. But you realize what will happen if we perform the spell."  
  
"I know, Brother, and I am willing to give that up." Answered Jacques, solemnly.  
  
"Then we had better hurry. There isn't much more time to perform the rituals. We must start immediately. We have but a few hours." Finished Brother Zachary.  
  
"I know." Said Brother Jacques, and they set up to cast the spell. 


	4. Awakening

Chapter 3----Awakening  
  
England.  
  
"Mr. Travers, sir, They wish to know if the remake is finished yet, if you please." said Andrew Coplen, one of Quentin's associates, as he entered the Watcher's quarters.  
  
"Thank you, Andrew. And yes, tell Them that she is almost ready, but They must understand that to make a true living copy of her, we need time. It is only a matter of hours, however, until we are finished." The old watcher replied while showing Andrew to the door.  
  
"Yes sir, I will let Them know." And with that he exited Quentin's chamber, letting the door close gently behind him.  
  
Quentin walked over to a wall that had a little groove in it just above a coffee table set there. Quickly, he tapped the coffee table twice and then slid his finger along the groove, thereby opening a passage that only he and a select few had access to. As he crept slowly down the dark, candlelit passageway, he listened intently for any sign of another presence. As he went further and further along, the passageway got wider and wider until it finally opened up to an enormous chamber that was brightly lit with chandeliers and other fancy lamps and lights. Nothing but the best for our little one, he thought. But of course, it was far from the best. It was big for an underground facility, but not nearly big enough for their slayer. She needed space, and things to fight. After all, evil wasn't going to just sit around and lie itself down. It needed to be killed, and who better to do so than the very copy of the best slayer there had ever been? Even Quentin could not argue that she had been more powerful and more clever and strong than any of those before her. He had only wished that she would have remained with the council so that she might have been of better help before her tragic death. But then, that was the life of a slayer; Live, be Chosen, fight evil until your death. There was no other way out of it. It was destiny. Fate. But this time, They wanted to change things. They knew the previous slayer could not be matched, and with the rogue slayer, Faith, being the only other slayer that was and would be called until her own death, They needed another. No other could be called unless Faith died, and since They were impassive at any costs, They did not see it fit to destroy Faith just so that a new slayer could be called. Also, at the risk of that slayer being worse even than Faith, They decided against it. So, here Quentin was, trying to finish the 'special project' by Their deadline, just so that he might be able to get his first decent night's sleep in over a month. As he walked over to the far wall, he removed a thin sheet from the bed where she lay. She's almost finished, he thought with a smile. She looks just like the real thing. But then he reminded himself that she was the real thing, only without one thing that made her Buffy. Her soul. But They believed that with a readily made soul, she would be easier to handle. Well, it's Their plan, he thought. And with that, he left the room.  
  
Sunnydale  
  
The two brothers had made their way to the old warehouse where they would perform the spell. They had been here only once before, when they first came to Sunnydale, but they had decided to rent a motel instead at less of a risk of being discovered. As they entered the broken down building, they couldn't see very well. It was very dark and musty, and Brother Zachary ran into at least one or two walls before they came to a large enough spot for them to perform the spell.  
  
"So this is it then?" asked Brother Jacques calmly, but with a hint of fear to his voice.  
  
"Yes, my Brother, this is the spot." Returned Borther Zachary. This was the only spot in Sunnydale that existed on a white plane. Simply meaning that it was a strong point for the use of good magicks. This was the only place where they could perform the spell, because though their magicks were powerful, they were not powerful enough alone to do a ritual of such great magnitude. They would have like to have gotten the slayer's little witch friend to help. Then the spell would not have such an irreversible impact on them. But they did not wish to risk anyone figuring out what they were doing. So instead they just decided to do the ritual themselves, despite the costs. So as they sat down to start chanting, Brother Zachary added, "You realize that her soul could end up anywhere, in any living shape, and that she may not be able to make it back to her friends.do you think she deserves that?"  
  
"I believe that she will find her way back to those that she truly loves." Replied Brother Jacques, "so let us perform the spell." And so they began.  
  
The chant was of Latin origin, but it was an extremely ancient language that was now almost dead. Few people any longer knew or spoke it. They continued to chant for several hours, until finally, Brother Jacques stopped. Brother Zachary soon stopped after him. "It is finished," proclaimed Brother Zachary, right before he collapsed in a lifeless heap. Brother Jacques didn't hear him, however, because he had drawn his last breath at the moment the last word of the chant left his lips.  
  
England.  
  
As Quentin reentered his quarters through the same passage by which he left, he noticed a difference in the atmosphere. Hmm, he thought, that is a bit odd. But he excused it, at least, until he noticed the figure standing in the shadows. "Who is there?" He demanded.  
  
The figure stepped out from the shadows and he gasped as she asked "Why am I here?"  
  
It isn't possible! Thought Quentin, I just saw her! She isn't supposed to be ready yet! "You were created by us." He replied, keeping his voice steady though his mind was racing.  
  
"I'm fairly sure that, even though you think you can run my life, you did *not* create me. Also, how did I get here? I'm supposed to be dead." The girl added.  
  
"Buffy, your body was created by The Powers That Be, with some additions from the watcher's council. Your soul was also created by Them, and placed into that body, though I do not know how They finished it so quickly, because They said that you would not be ready for another few hours." He finished.  
  
"Listen to me, Quentin, I am not some cyberoid creature that you created in some lab. I am Buffy Summers. I am the Vampire Slayer, and I have the power, and right, to kick your ass if I had the mind to, but instead, I'll just leave, thank you, if you could show me the way out." She verbally harassed him until he couldn't quite see straight, but he would not give in.  
  
"Buffy, you are staying here, whether you like it or not." He finished, and then left the room.  
  
"Finally." Buffy said. The man gave her chills whenever he was in her presence. She loathed him more than she did vampires, and that was saying something. He was the reason, not vampires, that she had to give up a normal life to live a life of hell, so it was only natural that she wouldn't like him. The other slayers were too obedient. What are we supposed to be? She thought, the perfect little slayer pets? Well, Buffy wasn't going to be their pet, that was for sure. She didn't quite know what was going on, but she knew she had to get out of here and back to Sunnydale. Somehow I'll find a way, she thought. Somehow I'll get back to them. 


End file.
